


The First Steps

by blazed_pipe_dream



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Dream Pack, Jealous Ronan Lynch, M/M, Ravinsky, basically just kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9502172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazed_pipe_dream/pseuds/blazed_pipe_dream
Summary: Ronan couldn't take his eyes away as Prokopenko leant down to press his lips to Kavinsky's waiting ones.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Or The Highway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6727549) by [FalseCamaro (Gandalfgirl579)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gandalfgirl579/pseuds/FalseCamaro). 



> Hello! This is my first work on AO3, I hope you like it. It was kind of inspired by Or The Highway by falsecamaro (I think that's her user, I'm sorry if it isn't).

Ronan couldn't take his eyes away as Prokopenko leant down to press his lips to Kavinsky's waiting ones. Skov was watching him, he could feel it, but he couldn't find it in him to care. Kavinsky's hand wrapped in Proko's strawberry-blond hair, pulling him closer. His other hand, his left one with his signature white sunglasses grasped in it, found it's way into Proko's back pocket, pulling his hips down towards Kavinsky's own. Proko's own hands pressed into the leather sofa, holding himself up above K. Prokopenko moaned into the other boy's mouth.

He imagined how his own lips would feel against Kavinsky's. He wondered how it would feel to be Prokopenko right now, to feel Kavinsky against him. He breathed out, slow and steady, trying not to think of the way the denim of his jeans would rub against Kavinsky's as he- nevermind. The thought hurt, in more ways than one. Ronan sighed.

Proko heard the sigh and, his lips still against Kavinsky's, opened his eyes to look at Ronan. He pulled away from K just enough to speak. K's eyes opened. "You jealous, Lynch?" Proko's voice was husky from kissing, although not husky enough to disguise his jealous tone.

"Am I?" Ronan answered with a confident question and an eyebrow raise.

Prokopenko scoffed. He pulled Kavinsky towards him by the collar of his white shirt and hungrily attacked his lips. Kavinsky, eyes still wide open, appeared to kiss him back almost immediately. Ronan's fingers twitched and he looked away.

"Envy's a sin," Proko pulled away from Kavinsky although his hands stayed clasped on his collar. "You should know that, church boy."

Kavinsky pushed Prokopenko's hands from his collar and adjusted the glittering gold chain around his neck. "Don't be like that, Proko. You're acting like a dick."

Proko's expression changed drastically. Skov noticed it and moved closer to Swan, who seemed to be asleep. "What do you mean 'acting like a dick'?" Proko used finger quotations. "Lynch is acting like a dick," He complained. With the word 'dick' being tossed around mindlessly, Ronan couldn't help but think of the dick back at Monmouth Manufacturing: Richard Campbell Gansey III. He wondered how he was doing now that Blue lived with him.

Meanwhile, outside of Ronan's head, Kavinsky stood up to his full height. Although he was several inches shorter than Prokopenko, there was something far more intimidating about the way he held himself. However, Prokopenko didn't back down or seem intimidated at all.

"Viktor," Kavinsky said, in the way you'd say _ew!_ or _down, boy_. Prokopenko almost flinched; Kavinsky never used first names unless there was a serious problem. "There's no reason to be jealous."

Ronan, who was watching the ordeal from a leather sofa where he sat with Jiang, felt his heart almost sink to the bottom of his stomach as he heard Kavinsky say that. He knew he meant nothing to K, but to hear him say it felt like heartbreak. To add salt to his painfully obvious wound, Prokopenko flashed a sly smirk and a shrug that read something along the lines of _well, what can you do?_.

"Because," Kavinsky continued like he'd never paused. Every eye in the room was on him and he was well aware of it. "I much prefer Ronan to you. C'mon, Lynch, we're going."

The smirk that had appeared on Prokopenko's face just mere moments ago was wiped clean, replaced by a round O. His eyebrows furrowed, knotting together, as Ronan stood from his seat and stuck his finger up at him. Then, as not a word was uttered from anyone, Kavinsky strolled out of the room, his new playtoy by his side.


End file.
